


The Golden Triangle

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Auctions, F/M, Fluff, Fun, M/M, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:09:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Schuester hopes that his auction house will be able to compete with the two big auction houses ...</p><p>My take on the "Glee Write What You Know" Fest ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden Triangle

Setting up an auction house out of Drouot in Paris looked like an impossible challenge - pretty much like taking over the Titanic - but Will Schuester was determined to take the Parisian auction market in a new direction.

Five years later, the house has made a name for itself, with experts that are determined to rise above the fray.

They’re all experts in their own rights, even if Will insists that they have to come up as a team for every major sale.

Rachel Berry, Senior expert in French and European furniture, assisted by her Junior cataloguer Finn Hudson - rumors about the couple being an actual couple fly around the town house.

The Puckerman brothers, experts in Vintage automobiles, are the “bad boys” of the house but they are great communicators with the clientele during the auctions, so Will lets them run their department as they please. Besides, Mercedes Jones runs the department with an iron fist in a very silky glove.

Unique Adams, Artie Abrams and Tina Cohen-Chang run the Impressionist Department, and they are considered to be lovely if a bit snotty.

Marley Rose and Kurt Hummel run the Books and Manuscripts department, with Sam Evans as a consultant for the comic books sales.

But Kurt has more than one side - he also contributes to the Contemporary Art department, run by Quinn Fabray, Britanny Pierce and Santana Lopez.

The Unholy Trinity of Bidding.

The auction house is gaining a reputation, but they’re still facing two mammoths of International magnitude.

The edgy, take-no-prisoner Christie’s, and the old school, but still cutting edge (and throats) Sotheby’s.

But they’ll manage, because they never stop believing in their craft and in the products they put in their catalogs.

—-

"Ok, guys," Will starts the meeting, clapping his hands.

The whole team - experts, junior Cataloguers, interns, even the consultants - is seated around the conference table, waiting for his announcement.

"We managed to score what promises to be the greatest sale of the season," Will continues, a manic grin on his face. "We’re going to sell Hergé’s last drawings. Her daughter is giving us all license to make this an event no one will ever forget."

Kurt bows his head to take his colleagues’ congratulations - after all, it is all thanks to him that the Belgian woman agreed to let the French house to sell all of her father’s estate - but from the corner of his eyes, he can see Rachel and Noah already gossiping.

If he’s not careful, they’re going to steal his spotlight, and he won’t let it happen.

"Now that you’ve managed to get us that sale, you should rest a little," Rachel suggests, her tone friendly but Kurt knows better.

"You can try, all you want, Berry," he says softly, his eyes icy in contrast, "I won’t let you take the hammer from my hands."

Rachel huffs and leaves the room like the diva that she is, but Kurt doesn’t care - his auction, his rule.

—-

Kurt has no idea how it escaped from him so fast.

One minute, he was in charge, directing the way the catalog was going to look like, and the next …

The next minute, he’s walking across Franklin D. Roosevelt square toward rue St Honoré.

Toward Sotheby’s.

“ _Make yourself useful_ ”, _Artie says dismissively while touching Kurt’s paste-up._ _"and go see what’s cooking with the Big Blue. We can take it from here."_

_"But …"_

_"Seriously, man," Sam adds, "you’re way too tense. Take a walk."_

_"Sam!" Kurt protests._

_"No Kurt, he’s right," Tina continues. "You made Ryder cry yesterday."_

_"He knows I don’t mean it," Kurt says with a brush of his hand on the intern’s shoulder._

_"I do," Ryer replies, "but we all think that you do need to let us participate."_

So Kurt took a deep breath, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and he lets the soft breeze of the Parisian spring cool him down while he approaches the massive building facing the presidential palace.

Sotheby’s is, and always has been, one of the biggest auction house in the world, but uptil now, they have kept their sales in classical fields : Impressionist, Contemporary but not 21st century Art.

And suddenly, with a new arrival at the head of, surprise, surprise, Books and Manuscripts department, they seem to want to take it to another direction.

Right in Kurt’s alley, and frankly, it’s disturbing.

Kurt is just going to look around, look at the exhibition - Jesus, they have enough budget to do exhibitions that are not even going to turn into sales - and take notes on how centuries-old auction houses deal with the whole circus.

That’s it.

The moment he steps inside, Kurt has to remind himself to close his mouth. It all looks so …

Rich, is the first word that comes to mind.

Classical, is the second.

Kurt hopes that his jealousy isn’t showing.

"May I help you?"

Kurt twirls to face the man who asked him that, but he has to actively force his brain to come up with something.

The man looks incredible, in his navy blue suits and his striped tie - and his amazing eyes and his lovely smile and gorgeous skintone …

"Hum, sorry," he covers up, "I just wanted to have a look around?"

The man laughs quietly. “No problem. I’m Blaine, let me show you the exhibition, I know quite a lot about it.”

"Kurt," Kurt replies, shaking the offered hand. "And how so?"

"The Book department here - it’s a bit of a bit thing," Blaine explains, showing Kurt the different pieces exhibited in the room under the glass roof (holy shit it makes the pieces look like they all belong here AND let the viewers picture them in their environment, nothing like the ugly neon green Shue has picked for the auction rooms back at Artcurial). "It’s the historical foundation of the House, after all."

"Right," Kurt nods along, stopping in front of Hugo Pratt’s watercolors showcased in a glass display. "Oh my God this is absolutely .."

"Magnificent, right?" Blaine completes for him, eyes sparkling under the softer light in this part of the room. "It brings me back to my teenage years, when I just couldn’t let go of my Corto Maltese albums."

"Same," Kurt replies with a chuckle. "Pratt’s style is so unique and remarkable …"

"And don’t get me started on the stories," Blaine adds with a soft shoulder bump.

"Matchless," they say in unison, letting out a giggle when one of the guards shush them.

"Mr. Anderson, sir," a blond, young man calls, a phone stuck between his shoulder and his ear and Blaine sighs.

"If you’ll excuse me," he tells Kurt with a light touch to his elbow.

Mister Anderson?

As in, the man who is probably going to make it even more complicated for Kurt to turn Artcurial into a big house?

As in, the guy who already makes Kurt smile bigger than he ever did?

Shit, fuck, merde.

"Mr. Hummel? A word?" a tall, black man stops him on his way out with a smirk and Kurt hangs his head down.

Shit, fuck, merde squared.

—-

"Are you going to beat me up?" Kurt asks in the office above the exhibition room. Blaine is here, quietly smiling and flanked by two men - the tall black man and another one, not so tall - and the three of them are blocking his exit.

"We’re not in the business of beating people up," the black man says, making Blaine and his colleague chuckles silently. "We’re wondering why you came to us."

"Something tells me that you might be interested in more than just spying around," Blaine adds, locking his - beautiful, mesmerizing - eyes with Kurt’s.

"Like - like what?" Kurt mumbles, looking away before doing something ridiculous - like jumping over the table to knock Blaine to the floor and do the horizontal tango.

"Like a potential change of … colors?"

Kurt looks at the Asian man on Blaine’s right, and there is something hopeful behind his stern gaze.

"We know how talented you are, Kurt Hummel," he continues, with Blaine and the other man’s enthusiastic nods, "we know how much of an asset you have been to Artcurial’s success."

"You-ou do?"

"Of course!" Blaine exclaims, leaning forward with wide eyes, and the two other Sothebians exchange a look before standing up.

"We’ll leave it to Blaine," Stern Asian man says, offering an hand to Kurt who shakes it in a daze.

"I was in the room for the Contemporary sale in June last year," Blaine says softly, "I saw you over the phone fighting that collector in the room for Gonzalez’ "Poète"."

Kurt remembers that sale pretty well - it’s one of his finest achievements in the auction room. Quinn and Puck had been forced to quit pretty soon, and Kurt had managed to convince his client in Abu Dhabi to keep up with that asshole in the room, the one whose smirk quickly disappeared from his face.

Until Kurt’s final victory.

"You did?" Kurt asks, a soft, proud smile stretching his lips.

"I did," Blaine echoes, his own smile turning soft too. "And you were so vibrant up there, Kurt," he adds, Kurt’s name rolling on his tongue like a brush of the fingertips on Kurt’s cheek. "So passionate, it was a privilege to see you take the spotlight."

Kurt can feel his face heating up, and he looks down bashfully. “Oh - um, thanks, Blaine.”

"You’re very welcome."

A silence falls on the two of them, but Kurt can’t say that he feels uncomfortable. Quite the contrary actually, in the last five years, this is the most comfortable he has been with a fellow expert.

Huh.

"Think about it," Blaine starts, "about our offer. We’re only a square away", he adds with a wink and Kurt feels like giggling.

"I will," he promises, standing up and closing his jacket. "Thank you for the opportunity," he adds hastily, and Blaine shakes his hand.

"Feel free to call me, whenever you need," he replies before letting go of Kurt’s hand.

"I will," Kurt repeats, and he needs a moment on the sidewalk to get his brain to truly understand what just happened.

He is being offered a position in one of the greatest auction houses on an international scale.

The possibilities for his career are … endless.

He has also met someone that could possibly be the person to bring a Sun over his Paris.

The possibilities are endless there too, and Kurt lets himself giggle as he starts walking back toward the square.

He doesn’t feel like returning to his office, though. A stroll around the Grand Palais sounds very appealing, suddenly, and Kurt might just get himself a frappucino or something …

"Kurt!"

Kurt keeps his hands in his pants’ pockets but turns to look at Blaine who is running out of the building, nearly colliding with one of the policemen standing guard in front of the presidential palace.

"Blaine?"

The composed man is not so composed any more, adjusting his jacket and tie as he reaches Kurt. “I just — it’s silly, but I was wondering … May I — Are you going back to the Purple hotel?”

Kurt snorts at the nickname. “No, I was actually thinking about paying Robert a visit,” he replies, nodding toward his left, toward the museum.

Blaine lets out a little moan that goes straight through Kurt’s body. “Oh , the Mapplethorpe exhibit, I have been dying to see it.”

"Come with me?" Kurt says before he can stop himself.

Blaine beams at him, and Kurt smiles in kind. “I’d love to,” he replies, “let me buy you a coffee first?”

"I’d love to," Kurt repeats, turning to walk towards the Starbucks when Blaine takes his hand in his.

"Follow me," he says with a playful smile, "I know a shortcut."

TBC ? (I don’t know you guys tell me ;))


End file.
